Does the prospect of Phil Jackson coming to work for the New York Knickerbockers remind you of anyone else? It does me.

Jackson, 68, is reportedly close to accepting a job as the Knicks’ president of basketball operations. Not that such a job fits him at all. Not that it takes advantage of his knack for effective manipulation of large-ego players. It appears on the surface to be merely a pathetic move by the Knicks’ cable TV magnate owner to grab a cheap headline.

How can Jackson possibly fix the Knicks when he won’t even be coaching them, when he won’t be using his Zen technique directly on Carmelo Anthony from a refurbished seat on the Madison Square Garden sideline? Reminiscent of any other recent front-office hire you can recall?

I thought immediately of the Miami Dolphins signing then-66-year-old Bill Parcells to virtually the same job back in 2008. That ended awkwardly in 2010 after a 7-9 season. Which was better than the 1-15 before he arrived.

But the point is this: Great head coaches – and players for that matter – rarely make great executives. They require entirely different skill sets and emotional make-ups. Jackson’s gift has been in interpersonal relationships with players that convince them to subvert their egos for the good of the team. He can’t exploit that gift as a front-office suit.

Further, it doesn’t make much sense that serial meddler James Dolan will be a fit for Jackson. Dolan is quite possibly the worst professional team owner in the world, a megalomaniacal micromanager who doesn’t allow employees free speech. Jackson will simply not follow his rules. He’s won 13 NBA titles as a player or coach. He follows his own rules.

That doesn’t make him averse to accepting stupid money. Dolan is a pro at handing it out and word has gotten around to every big cat in the NBA jungle from Isiah Thomas whose personnel moves ruined the franchise to Larry Brown who received a net of $28 million for coaching a single season.

Parcells, like Jackson, built his name with a formidable personal presence and an ability to get players to do more than they thought possible. He won two Super Bowls with the Giants in '86 and '90 and led the Patriots to a third in '96 by being a master hands-on manipulator of people.

Player personnel was never his forte but then-owner Wayne Huizenga, the video-rental magnate, wanted a star name. Parcells didn’t sign for the same money Jackson will. The Tuna’s contract called for a mere $12 million over four years. But when you’re over 65 and some sucker is handing you eight figures when you already sat in semi-retirement, what’re you gonna do?

Jackson will likely seek and receive some parachute in his contract that allows him to fly whenever he’s sick of the franchise or Dolan. Until then, he can enjoy the world’s greatest city, refresh old ties from his playing days under Red Holtzman and be held ultimately blameless for a ship that was crippled long before he arrived.